


In the Before Time

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-29
Updated: 1999-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-11 06:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11142723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Kidnapped by Soldier 12, a programmed assassin, Ray is used as bait in a plot to lure Ben to his death.





	In the Before Time

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Hi everyone

First a word of explanation: Originally the North Trilogy consisted of only _South by Southwest, Whispering Pines_ , and _"One Word"_. This story was a stand-alone effort. However, with the continuation of the Ben and Phil Saga and the use of characters introduced in these stories, I felt it was prudent to place these stories together in chronological order. That is why there are four stories in this series.

Sher

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Lyrics from _Memory_ by Andrew Lloyd Webber, T. Nunn, T.S. Eliot, are used without permission.

Rated PG (swearing, adult situations)

In the Before Time

By SL Haas

(Copyright March 1997 Revised June 1999)

 

J

ane rolled over and looked at the clock--5:34. "Damn, I can't even get a full night's sleep anymore." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there with her head in her hands. The throbbing ache in her head and the tremors of her limbs were more pronounced than usual. She glanced around the dingy rental room and cursed the circumstances that had brought her here. Stumbling to her feet, she staggered to the dresser and fumbled in her purse for the bottle of capsules she kept there. She quickly downed one, then a second for good measure. She made her way back to the bed and lay there waiting for the medication to take effect.

Desperate thoughts rolled through her mind. She originally had had a month's supply of the drugs. But, lately, one capsule had not been enough. Her supply would run out before the month was over. It wasn't as if she could run down to the corner drugstore and get a refill. No, she had to finish her job here and return to the 'hospital' for her next supply of medicine.

Jane thought back, trying to remember the 'before' time--before the accident that had changed her life--before she had found herself a resident of a mental hospital. The

headache increased and she felt her pulse begin to race. Always the same--anytime she tried to recall her life before the hospital, panic and pain greeted her. It was easier to just forget the 'before' time and live only in the present--if it wasn't for the dreams. If only the dreams would leave her alone she could be content. But they didn't. They haunted her making sleep difficult. The doctor had prescribed a sedative but its effectiveness had ceased several months ago. She didn't tell the doctor--she wanted no more medications. She felt like, sometimes, the world around her was wrapped in cotton balls. Her mind was fuzzy and her thinking processes no longer crisp and decisive. Hence the situation she now found herself in.

Jane had come to Chicago to eliminate one of the demons that haunted her dreams. After extensive 'therapy sessions,' she was ready to deal with the person connected to the face that plagued her dreams. She had been here two weeks already but had done nothing decisive regarding her assignment.

On the surface, this job appeared no different from the others she had already completed. All she had to do was locate her target, eliminate him, and return to the

'hospital.' She had accomplished the first step within two days of arriving. She had him in the sights of her sniper scope when he turned and she caught the blue of his eyes scanning the rooftop where she lay. Even though she knew he couldn't see her, his eyes seemed to drill into her mind—to trigger something buried deep in its darkest recesses. She hesitated...she couldn't squeeze the trigger.

Jane rolled over on to her back and stared at the ceiling. She mentally reviewed the information on her target. NAME: Benton Fraser; OCCUPATION: Constable, RCMP; CURRENT ASSIGNMENT: Deputy Liaison Officer, Canadian Consulate, Chicago, IL. She could recite the statistics backwards and forwards. She knew this man as well as her information would allow. Yet, when she had seen his eyes, she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had known him in the 'before' time...known him as something more than a demon who haunted her dreams. So, instead of eliminating him quickly and expediently as was her normal pattern, she found herself following him, making unobtrusive inquiries—getting to know the man behind the target. She knew where he lived--had even talked with a couple of his neighbors. She knew of his wolf...what was a wolf doing in Chicago? She knew of his close friendship with Detective Ray Vecchio of the Chicago PD. In short, she knew him as well as she could without actually meeting him. The question was did he know her? Could he tell her about the 'before' time? Did he know who Jane Smith really was?

The pain in her head had dropped to the dull ache she was used to. She didn't like the dullness the medication provided, but she had learned to compensate for it--better to be fuzzy around the edges than to deal with the pain.

At first the medicine had heightened her senses. She was aware of the minutest detail possible. But the clarity had slowly faded to be replaced by haze. It took more and more of the drugs to achieve that clarity, so she lived most of her time in the haze. Only when she had to deal with her demons did she allow herself to indulge in the clarity the drugs brought. But **now** she was running low. She had to finish this job soon. Two days ago she had made the opening moves of the plan of action she had formulated.

* * *

Jane dressed carefully in a fashion conscious suit, applied a light touch of makeup, and stepped back to view the results in the cracked mirror on the closet door. She knew she looked elegant. From the sleek golden-brown hair that framed her delicate features to the long slender legs that extended from the hem of her skirt to the Guicci pumps on her feet--she had a figure _'to die for'_ and knew how to use it to her best advantage. She was going to **use** it now.

* * *

Detective Ray Vecchio pulled his mint condition '71 Buick Riveria into the only parking space on the block. He was lucky; the former occupant of the space had pulled out right in front of him. Ray quickly whipped his car into the spot, grinning maliciously at those less fortunate than he. He sat there for a moment before opening the door and climbing out. He and his best friend, Benton Fraser, were supposed to meet for dinner, but Fraser had cancelled at the last minute. So here he was, alone, at Scarpetta's with a reservation for two. It had taken him three weeks to get the reservations and now he would have to eat alone. Damn Benny, anyway! Why couldn't he learn to say no to additional work? It wasn't as if he didn't put in a full eight hours everyday. Unfortunately, the Dragon Lady had discovered he was a pushover when it came to more work.

__

'Serves you right, Benny! Missing out on a great meal!' Ray thought as he rounded the front of the car and stepped up onto the curb. He was so occupied in berating the absent Mountie that he didn't see the bicycle messenger nor the woman before it was too late. All he felt was a shove to his back that sent him plunging into the woman walking past him. He barely had time to notice her surprised expression before he found himself prone on the sidewalk with the beautiful woman beneath him--his face inches from hers. He levered himself up on hands placed on either side of her shoulders, feeling his legs slide between hers. "I'm sorry, Miss...?"

"Smith, Jane Smith. And you don't need to apologize. If that messenger hadn't hit you he would've hit me. If I had a choice, I think I would rather be hit by you than a

bicycle." She smiled her most friendly smile.

Ray gazed into the clearest bluest eyes he had ever seen on a woman. Her smile lit her face and he felt himself smiling back. "And you are?" she asked.

"Vecchio, Ray Vecchio."

"I'm pleased to meet you Vecchio, Ray Vecchio." She laughed and extended her hand, which only emphasized the fact that she was sitting on the sidewalk with Ray perched between her legs _._

‘And they are such lovely legs’. Ray jerked his eyes back to the face of the woman. Surprised awareness echoed in her eyes as he climbed to his feet and extended his hand to Jane and pulled her to her feet. "I'm sorry, again. I don't know where my manners have gone."

Jane smiled her most beguiling smile. The bribes to the bicycle messenger and the driver had certainly paid off. "I have to hand it to you, Mr. Vecchio. That's probably the most original **pick-up** I've experienced."

Ray swallowed and started to protest but Jane silenced him with a smile and a shake of her head. Ray grinned back at her. "Please, call me Ray."

"Only if you call me Jane." She suddenly reached out and clutched Ray's arm as a spasm of pain crossed her face. 

Ray quickly placed an arm around her shoulders as she lifted one leg and tenderly massaged an ankle. "Here let's get you seated so I can take a look at that ankle."

"It's nothing, Mr. Vecc...Ray. And..." she gently rubbed her backside, "it's certainly not the only thing that smarts." 

Ray's groin muscles tightened as he watched her hands move over her rounded posterior. He took a deep breath and led her over to the Riv, unlocked the passenger door, and helped Jane to seat herself there. He knelt in front of her and removed the shoe from her foot and gingerly felt the ankle. He rotated the foot slowly and looked up into Jane's face.

"How does that feel?" he asked as his eyes traveled up the length of her leg.

Ever conscious of the effect she had on him, Jane bit her lower lip. "It aches, but not too bad. It'll probably be all right if I stay off it for the rest of the evening." She gave Ray a disgusted look. "It looks like I'm reduced to Room Service at the hotel." She turned the full brunt of her smile on him. "Could you flag me a taxi, please?"

Ray was captivated by the long expanse of leg that stretched above the foot in his hand to the hem of the dress that had inched itself higher. 

"Ray...Ray? Earth to Ray Vecchio," she said in a silky voice.

Ray lifted his eyes to Jane's face. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Jane lowered her thick, black lashes. "I asked if you could flag me a taxi so I could return to my hotel."

"No, before that."

She slowly slid her tongue over her lower lip. "You mean about having Room Service for dinner?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Confusion played across her face. "I don't understand. Why would you want to know that?"

"Because," Ray slid the shoe back on her foot, "if you're not meeting someone, I'd like for you to join me for dinner. I just happen to have reservations here at Scarpetta's."

Jane smiled suggestively. "You are one smooth operator, Ray. Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on you or your friends."

Ray quickly waved aside her hesitation. "No imposition. My friend backed out at the last minute and, frankly, I'm glad he did **now**. Would you please join me for dinner?"

"I'd love to, Ray. If you'll let me lean on you so I can walk?" Ray rose to his feet and pulled Jane to hers, tucking her arm into his. Arm in arm they entered the restaurant. So far her plan of action was falling right into place.

By the time dinner was over, Ray was convinced he had met the woman of his dreams. She was beautiful, witty, and could carry a dialogue on a variety of subjects. She was in town for business, but expected to conclude her job in the near future.

Jane watched Ray race to all kinds of conclusions, knowing he would never guess the truth. Men were so gullible, so easily misdirected. It was too bad that she found herself actually liking him. Maybe in another lifetime she could have followed her desires to another end, but not in **this** lifetime. She had a job to do and Ray Vecchio was tool to use.

Ray noticed the distracted look in Jane's eyes. "Jane, are you feeling all right? Is your ankle bothering you?" There was real concern and caring in his voice. 

How long had it been since she had heard that? Not since the 'before' time. Definitely, there had been no caring or concern for her at the hospital. Only care or concern over whether or not she eliminated her dream demons. She looked at the concern in the hazel eyes of the man across from her. She felt something long dead stir inside her heart. Mentally shaking herself, she smiled sadly and nodded. "My ankle does ache and I need to put some ice on it or something. I've enjoyed our dinner, Ray. Thank you."

"I've enjoyed it, too. May I see you again?" Ray held his breath hoping against hope.

Secretly pleased, Jane smiled to herself. Men were so predictable. "I'm only going to be here for less than week, Ray--but, yes, I'd love to see you again, too! I have a meeting tomorrow but, the day after that I'm free for the evening..." She left the suggestion hanging.

"That would be perfect. Let me drive you to your hotel and we can decide on what to do." One corner of his mouth was pulled into a slight smile.

Ray drew up in front of the Regent's Park Hotel. That's as far as Jane would let him come. 

"I need to know you a little better before I ask you up to my room, Ray." Her smile was as intimate as a kiss as she leaned over and ran her hand over his thigh. 

Ray jumped as if burned and turned his eyes to hers. What he read there caused a stirring in his groin. Jane smiled and caressed the growing bulge in his pants. Ray swallowed several times and his hands clasped the steering wheel until the knuckles were white. Smiling seductively, she leaned over and placed a passionate kiss on his lips before opening the door and leaving the Riv.

"I'll see you Friday." Her voice, deep and sensual, hinted at things to come.

Ray swallowed, then nodded. "Friday it is." She turned and Ray watched her limp through the doors into the hotel. He let out the breath he was holding, shook his head, and said " **Thank** **you** , Benny, for not coming tonight. And **thank you** , Inspector Thatcher, for finding something to keep him busy!"

* * *

The day dragged slowly by. Jane left her room briefly to get some coffee and Danish, but spent the majority of the day dozing. She had a long night ahead of her.

Jane awoke from a nap to the sounds of someone or something rattling the knob on her door. She reached for the pistol she kept under her pillow. Quietly she sat up and faced the door. She could hear a key being inserted in the lock and turning. The knob turned and the door slowly opened. She grasped the pistol in both hands and aimed at the figure now visible. 

The man entered and closed the door --his red tunic a counterpoint to the drabness of the room. He moved to the foot of her bed and stood there, hat in hand. "Why do you want to kill me?" Fraser asked.

"I have to," she snarled.

"Why do you want to kill me?" he repeated.

"Because I have to."

"Why do you want to kill me?" he repeated again.

"...the pain...because of you." Her hands began to shake.

"Why do you want to kill me?" He certainly was persistent.

"You haunt my dreams. I have to...have to stop them." Her hands were at her temples.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

"They told me to." She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

"I have to do what they say or the pain gets worse." She began rocking.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

"I don't know!" she screamed and covered her ears.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

She stared into the blue eyes of the face she had been 'instructed' to hate. She didn't know why she had to kill him. She didn't want to kill anyone, but the pain and the

voice in her head kept telling her she had to. She rubbed her temples as she closed her eyes. 

"No...no...NO!" she screamed.

She opened her eyes to face the man in red. His blue eyes stared into hers mesmerizing her. His finely chiseled features blurred as they softened to form more delicate features. His dark brown hair lightened and lengthened. Only the eyes remained the same. 

Jane stared at the new face, shocked into helpless terror. She buried her face in her hands, her gun dropping unnoticed to the bed beside her. "No...no...NO!"

The transformed Fraser asked, "Why do you want to kill me?"

"I don't...I don't want to kill you! How can I kill you...kill myself?" for she now stared into her own features. Where before Benton Fraser, RCMP, had stood, Jane Smith now stood in the red serge uniform of the RCMP.

"No...no...NO!" she screamed and sat up to find she had been dreaming. 

Taking a shaky breath, she felt for her gun and cradled it against her chest . Drawing her legs up as she had done in her nightmare, she rocked herself much in the same manner she had rocked herself in the hospital before the doctors had started her 'therapy sessions.’ Gradually the rocking slowed then ceased. Deep shuddering breaths were taken before the gun was replaced beneath the pillow.

Jane rose from the bed, went to the bathroom, and downed two more capsules. She had to finish this job soon, there were only six capsules left. Why was she finding **this** job so much harder than her other ones? Why were the dreams different? Why did she dream about Fraser and herself in red? Was this a hint of the 'before' time? She had to know if he knew her--what he knew about her, before she could finish her job. She **would** finish her assignment. She **was** a professional.

* * *

Jane dressed carefully in her 'little black' dress, shaking the folds of the skirt to be sure that her leg holster was not evident. Damn! There was a tale-tell bulge at her thigh. She quickly stripped the holster from her leg and placed the gun in her purse. It settled next to her keys and the hypodermic. The hard sides of the bag disguised its contents. Finally, she pulled the coveralls on over her dress _. ‘Good thing this dress is crease resistant!_ ’ she thought.

She carried her suitcase and gun case to the waiting van then returned to the room to scour it for any remnants that might reveal its former occupant. She had previously wiped all surfaces for fingerprints. Not that there would be many, she made a habit of wearing gloves when on assignment. Satisfied that the room was clean, she wiped the key of any remaining fingerprints and left it in the room.

The drive to the alley she had selected took little time. Using her cellphone, she summoned a taxi. She quickly walked to the corner down the block from the alley where she left the van. She could see Fraser's apartment building from the corner. He passed the alleyway every day on his way to the Consulate. 

The taxi arrived. "The Regent's Park Hotel," she told the driver and sat back and closed her eyes. Tonight would see the answer to her questions and the completion of her assignment. She felt for her purse and the contents it concealed.

Jane paid the driver and thanked him. Entering the hotel, she surreptitiously sought the ladies room. She entered and waited for the current occupant to finish and leave. Entering into a stall, Jane quickly removed the coveralls and stashed it in the trash. The black softness of her dress heightened the translucence of her face and neck. She freshened her make-up, then leisurely strolled out into the foyer of the hotel. She settled onto a chair and watched the entrance. Her surveillance was rewarded within 10 minutes by the appearance of Ray. Jane rose and moved to intercept him.

"Ray!" she called lightly.

Ray turned toward her voice and smiled. "Jane! What are you doing down here?"

"I couldn't wait in my room any longer, so I came down here to wait for you." The lies rolled off her lips. She had become accustomed to lying. Her whole life was a lie.

He laughed. "Have you been waiting long?" His eyes raked boldly over her.

Jane smiled at him. "No, only an eternity! So where are you taking me?"

Ray made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching her. "I hope you like off-Broadway musicals? 'Cause I have tickets to _'Cats._ ' Tonight is the last performance before the show moves on." He proudly displayed the two tickets he had spent almost 2 days and too much money acquiring. He was pleased by Jane's reaction. 

"I love Andrew Lloyd Webber's plays and I haven't seen _'Cats.'_ How did you know I would love it?" Her fingers fluttered to her neck.

"Just a guess." He escorted Jane to his car and they were soon at the theater. 

The play was over too soon and Jane found herself back in Ray's car. She sat there in silence and leaned her face against the window. One song had struck a chord within her. It's words echoed over and over in her mind:

**__**

Memory,

All alone in the moonlight,

I can smile at the old days.

I was beautiful then.

I remember

The time I knew what happiness was.

Let the memory live again.

That particular stanza replayed itself in her mind. Maybe after tonight her memories **would** live again. 

Ray interrupted her train of thought, "You're awfully quiet, Jane."

Jane turned her face to Ray. It was time to put the rest of her plan in motion. "I was just rerunning the play in my head. I really enjoyed it, Ray. Thank you for taking me."

"It was my pleasure. I'm not really a musical fan, but I could easily become one with the right company," and his smile let Jane know just **who** he considered to be the right company. 

Again, something long dead stirred inside her. She closed her eyes and fought the rising feelings. She had a job to do and nothing, **nothing** would stop that. She smiled at Ray, "Would you like to come up to my room, Ray? I can order some drinks for us." 

Ray nodded his agreement, not fully sure why he wasn't as ecstatic as he should have been. The brief image of Casey Sinclair passed across his thoughts and was as quickly gone. Shaking himself, Ray wondered why he had thought of Casey. A few passionate kisses were all that existed between them, nothing more. Pulling the Riv into a parking space, he turned to Jane. "Are you sure about this?"

Jane slid closer to Ray on the seat and reached for him. He responded by drawing her into the circle of his arms. Their kisses masked Jane's stealthy delving into her purse. Ray had no warning. The hypodermic was driven into his back before it registered on his mind. "I'm sorry, Ray. I really am..." were the last words he heard as he slipped into a drug-induced stupor.

Jane slipped out of the Riv and came around to the driver's side. Opening the door, she pushed Ray across the seat and slid in behind the wheel. The engine started immediately and she drove to the alley where her van was stashed. 

Ray was worse than a sack of potatoes but, at last, he was lying on the floor of the van. Jane wiped the surfaces of the Riv removing fingerprints. She placed her note on the dashboard.

The drive to the abandoned warehouse she had located was longer than she had anticipated, but still well within her interval of safety. She drove the van inside the warehouse, climbed out, and closed the door to the building. Coming around to the side of the van, she opened the door and reached across Ray's inert body to retrieve her suitcase. Stripping her dress off, Jane pulled on a pair of slacks and a turtleneck sweater. More sensible shoes followed. 

She went in search of the handcart she had located yesterday. Returning, she loaded Ray onto it and pushed him into the room she had prepared. She pushed his body off the cart onto a mattress next to the far wall. Still in 'work' mode she tied his hands and feet together behind him and then to the pipe behind the mattress. Only then did she allow herself to focus on the real world. 

She collapsed onto the edge of the mattress and looked in hurt denial at what she had done to Ray. She turned away from him and buried her face in her hands. Her head throbbed and her heart raced. Every movement brought new agony to her head. Unable to handle the pain any longer, Jane dug the pills from the suitcase and swallowed three. Only three more left.

When the throbbing dulled, she went to the van and pulled out a couple of blankets and brought them back to the still form on the mattress. She spread the blankets over Ray. Without volition her hand ran down his cheek to his lips. 

"I'm truly sorry, Ray, but I have a job to do." She pulled her knees up, hugged them, and rested her forehead on them. The rocking began and soon tears flowed freely.

"Why do you want to kill me?" The transformed Fraser again questioned her. Jane raised her face to stare at this person who wore **her** face.

"Who are you?" Jane hoarsely whispered.

"I am you...you are me." The figure in red replied.

"That can't be. I don't know you...I don't know me." She put her face down and the rocking intensified. Who was she before she became Jane Smith? Maybe, Benton Fraser could tell her. One thing was sure; she **would** have any information Fraser had about her before she killed him. He would tell her everything.

She looked at Ray's unconscious form. "He'll tell me everything to save you," she said to him. "He won't let anything happen to you. He'll answer me, **if** he really cares for you." The crying continued, her body racked with shaking sobs. No one cared for her. She had no friends, no family, no one. The sobs subsided and she wiped her face on the sleeve of her sweater.

A yawn caught her by surprise. She shook her head but the fuzziness rolled over her and claimed her every thought. Giving in to exhaustion, Jane lifted the blanket and crawled in next to Ray. As her eyes began to close, she jerked awake, quickly crawled from beneath the blanket, and removed her gun. She placed it on the suitcase then pushed the case against the opposite wall of the room. No sense in tempting Ray **if** he regained consciousness before her. With that done she returned to the mattress and curled up against Ray. She fell asleep with her head on his chest.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly to Ray. His head pounded unmercifully. Groaning, he opened his eyes then immediately shut them as flashes of neon bright colors assaulted his senses. He drew deep ragged gasps of air into his lungs. A fragrance tantalized his nose. Slowly he became cognizant of something/someone curled next to him. Barely cracking one eye, he found his face buried in a mass of golden-brown hair. He closed his eye before the neon colors could coalesce and assault him again. He tried to bring an arm around only to discover that he was bound hand and foot. He struggled with his bonds, then groaned as the movement increased the pounding in his head. 

The person next to him stirred and rolled to face him. He opened an eye when he felt an arm flung over him, and watched in confusion as Jane settled against his chest. Jane?!?! Memories flooded back into his mind. Jane had done this! Why?

Jane worked her way slowly up out of her sleep. She had slept more deeply and restive than she had slept in over five months. She yawned and stretched, both of which stopped when her hand encountered Ray's body. Her eyes flew open and gazed into Ray's hazel ones, clouded with confusion. He struggled to find the words to express what he was feeling. 

Jane sat up, moved away from him, and turned her back on him. "Let me guess...you want to know why I've done this?" Her voice was distant.

"Yes...I don't understand, Jane. Why?"

"It has nothing to do with you personally, Ray. I really do like you. It's just..." She bit her lower lip. "It's...it's...look I have a job to do...but before I can do that I have to have some answers. You're my insurance that I'll get my answers. I'm sorry, Ray." 

She stood and reached into her suitcase and removed two scarves. These she used to gag him. She then left the room to finish the job she had started.

* * *

Benton Fraser was worried. Ray was missing. The sense of unease that had claimed him for the last couple of weeks was overwhelming. His unease peaked when he spotted Ray's car, abandoned in an alleyway. He leaned into the passenger side of the Riv and searched for anything that might lend a clue to Ray's whereabouts. He found exactly the same thing as he had the first time he searched the car: nothing.

Standing, he retrieved the note that had been so prominently displayed on the dashboard. It was addressed to him. He read it again.

****

Fraser,

I have your friend. If you want to see him again, you will do as I say. You are under surveillance at all times and I will know if you have deviated from my instructions. Needless to say, if one police officer is involved, other than yourself, Vecchio is a dead man!

This is strictly between you and me. Vecchio is incidental. No harm will come to him, if you cooperate.

Take Vecchio's cellphone and return to your apartment. You will be contacted there. Remember that I have eyes everywhere.

Soldier 12

It was that final tag that worried Fraser--'Soldier 12.' He knew of the organization that trained assassins then contracted them out. The assassins were known only by code names: Soldier 1, Soldier 2, etc. He had been a member of the group that was responsible for the capture of Soldier 7. 

The man had been a complete fruitcake. He had had only one coherent train of thought--elimination of his target. The man had died after four days in the hospital. The autopsy had revealed massive drug abuse mostly by new varieties of designer drugs. Some had not yet been identified. If Ray was being held by one of these assassins, then there was a good chance that Ray was already dead.

Fraser leaned against the door of the Riv. No, he had to believe that Ray was still alive. Why did Soldier 12 claim this was personal and did not concern Ray? Why take Ray in the first place?

Fraser had no doubt that he was under surveillance at that very moment. The 'Soldiers' were meticulous and deadly. His sister, Rebecca, had died trying to infiltrate the organization. Ben thought back to that time, almost 2 years ago when Becka had disappeared. He and his father had teamed together to search for her, but had found nothing. She had simply disappeared. A month later, her car had been pulled from the Ottawa River. Her body had never been found. Yes, the war against the 'Soldiers' was personal, but it was personal to him. How could it be personal to one of the 'Soldiers'?

Fraser slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove to his apartment. Entering, he strode purposefully to the trunk that had been his father's. He dug out his

revolver and filled the chambers with bullets. He put extra ammo on the bed. He removed his uniform and hung it in the closet. What he contemplated went beyond his duty. It was personal...and he would handle it as a civilian **not** as a police officer. He had lost Becka to these murderers; he would not lose Ray without a fight. The extra ammo went into the pockets of his jacket. His hunting knife hung from his belt, as did the holster containing his gun. His father's gun nestled in the small of his back.

Dief whined as he watched the preparations Alpha Male made. Something was wrong. When his packmate sat down at the table, Dief crossed to him and laid his head in his lap.

"Dief? What is it?" Fraser stroked the head in his lap. He gazed out the window at the slice of sky visible. "The 'Soldiers' have Ray. I'm going after him. I won't let them kill Ray like they did Becka. Do you want to come along?" 

Dief woofed his affirmative.

They waited. Two hours later, Ray's cellphone rang. A muffled voice said, "Very good, Fraser. You may proceed to the next location. Leave the wolf. If he's spotted, he'll be disposed of, quickly. Go to the corner of Main and Fourth. You'll be contacted there."

"Sorry, Dief. But they don't want you along. You'll have to stay here." Fraser left the apartment and headed to the next contact location. 

Dief barked and scratched at the door until Mr. Mustafi came to check on him. As soon as the door opened, Dief was gone in a flash.

"Oh dear. I hope I did the right thing." Mr. Mustafi frowned then toddled back to his apartment.

* * *

Fraser was making his sixth move in this cat-and-mouse game. He moved down the alley, carefully scanning each shadow and watching the rooftops. He could see the van at the end of the alleyway. The door stood open. He approached the van slowly, circled it, knelt and checked beneath it, only then did he look inside. There was no one present. A low moan issued from a featureless mass on the floor. Fraser climbed in and rolled the mass over.

As soon Fraser bent over her and started to roll her over, Jane lunged and planted the hypodermic in his body. A look of stunned disbelief crossed his face as he caught a glimpse of her face then he toppled over onto her. 

__

‘Really, men are so predictable,’ she thought as she rolled his body off of her. She started the engine and drove away. She didn't see the white shadow that sprinted after the van.

* * *

Ray waited for Jane to return. He had worn his wrists raw trying to free himself, to no avail. He had managed to work the gag loose but no one had answered his cries for help. Now, he desperately needed a restroom. _'If she doesn't come soon, I'm going to embarrass myself all over this mattress.'_ He shifted trying to find a more comfortable position.

He was thankful when he heard the van pull into the warehouse. "Jane...Jane...I know you can hear me! Jane, I've got to go to the bathroom. You've got to untie me so I can relieve myself. Jane...if you don't I'm going to pee all over your bed..." His pleas trailed off as Jane entered the room.

"I'm sorry, Ray. Of course, you can go to the restroom." She rummaged in her suitcase, then turned to him, a hypodermic in her hand. "Insurance, Ray. Just so you'll

behave. This contains a nasty little cocktail my superiors developed--morphine, pentobarbital, and something else--you've already felt its effects." 

She knelt on the mattress and shoved the needle into the side of Ray's neck. "Now, I'll untie you and we'll go to the restroom. Just remember that my finger is on the plunger of this hypo. You do anything, anything at all I don't like and I will use it. And don't try to escape or bat my hand away...the plunger is spring loaded. If my hand slips, the plunger is released. Do you understand me, Ray?"

"Yeah, I understand you, you bitch." He put all the loathing he could into his voice.

Jane's eyes hardened but she held her anger in check. She needed Ray for the time being. The trip to the restroom was uneventful. 

"You gonna watch?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"No, I'm not going to watch. Besides I've seen this before."

"Yeah, but not me."

"Hurry it up, Ray."

"That's Mr. Vecchio to you!" 

She smiled acquiescence. "Now, Mr. Vecchio, time for you to pay for your room and board." Jane directed him to a chair. 

He sat and submitted to the ropes. He had little choice with that hypo still in his neck. He was relieved when he felt it withdrawn. 

Jane came around and knelt in front of him. "I'm really sorry, Ray. I wish this didn't have to happen." There was a strange look in her eyes.

"You wish what didn't have to happen?" Ray asked. "Why are you doing this? What do you hope to accomplish?"

Dropping the hypodermic, she began rubbing her temples. "You don't understand, I have a job to do. I have to do it." She settled back and drew her knees up. She began rocking. The look she turned on Ray was one of confusion, pain, and self-hatred. "You just don't understand."

Eventually, she climbed to her feet and went in search of her medicine downing the last three capsules. She came back to Ray and shoved the empty container in his face. "See...now the pain will take over." She laughed hysterically and threw the bottle across the room. Still laughing she opened the door of the van, pulled the handcart up to it, and rolled Fraser's body out onto the cart.

"Benny! What have you done to him? Benny?" he called desperate for a response from his friend.

Ray watched Jane push Fraser over underneath a system of ropes and pulleys connected to an overhead beam. He watched as she tied his wrists with ropes and haul him up until he was hanging by the ropes, his feet barely touching the floor. 

"You bitch, let him down. What has he done to you? Let him down!" His struggles caused his chair to topple over. He could no longer see Fraser. He heard the approach of shoes and watched Jane's come into view. She helped him set the chair upright.

"Next time you do that, I'll leave you there!" She moved back to Fraser.

"What did you do to him?" Ray snarled.

Jane turned to Ray. "He's just had a little taste of that cocktail I told you about. Not as much as you had. He'll be fine when he awakens."

Ray remembered his awakening. "I **doubt** that. Have you ever experienced your little 'cocktail'?"

Jane hesitated a moment then said, "No, I haven't."

"Then you have no idea just what it does to you and how bad you feel when you first awaken. Take my word for it, he **won't** be fine!"

"That's not my concern." She moved to stand in front of Fraser and removed the guns, knife, and ammo. She patted him down for other weapons. Grasping a handful of hair, she pulled his face up where she could examine it. His features seemed so familiar. Why did he haunt her dreams? She let his head fall back on his chest.

She pulled a chair over to where she could see both Ray and Fraser. Turning it around she straddled it and watched the two men. There was obvious concern on Ray's face as he, too, watched Fraser. The looks he gave her were a mixture of apprehension and loathing. 

"You mind telling me what's going on? Why have you kidnapped me and Fraser? Have we done something to you? Surely, I would have remembered you!"

She shook her head. "It's better if you don't know any more than you do, Ray...Mr. Vecchio. I'm trying to save your life."

"My life? What about Benny? What are you trying to do to him?"

"I'm trying to find some answers. Depending on those answers..." She bowed her head for a moment then raised it to stare at Ray. "I'll decide what I'm going to do after I get my answers." 

"What questions do you want answered? Maybe I can answer some."

"I doubt it, Mr. Vecchio. I sincerely doubt it. I wish you could." A far away, wistful look came into her eyes. "I wish..." A groan interrupted her wishing. She rose from her

chair and approached Fraser. She grasped his hair again and pulled his face up. 

"Constable Fraser, are you with us?" She was satisfied when his blue eyes opened and tried to focus on her face. Another groan escaped his lips as he quickly squeezed his eyes shut.

"Leave him alone, you bitch," Ray shouted.

Jane let Fraser's head drop then turned to Ray. "I don't appreciate being called that, Mr. Vecchio. I suggest you think of something else to use. If you can't think of something suitable, I suggest you call me Soldier 12." 

She turned her attention back to Fraser. "Come on, Constable. It's time to wake up and join us. We're very anxious to talk to you."

A shiver ran down Ray's spine and cold sweat beaded his forehead. Soldier 12? He had heard of the 'Soldiers'—knew what they were capable of. If Jane was a 'Soldier' then they were both in deep shit. Why would an assassin be interested in them, or more specifically, in Benny? She had said that **he** was only insurance. Insurance for what? To make Benny talk? What were these questions that needed answering? And who was her target? The job she had spoken of could only be a contract assassination. Who? He had thought he was a good judge of character but he had completely blown it with Jane. Who would have thought she was capable of indiscriminate murder?

Ben felt around him with his senses. He could tell that he was hanging from ropes tied around his wrists--his feet barely touching the floor. He slowly opened his eyes again. The bright neon colors did not immediately assault him. He looked carefully around him. Ray was tied in a chair, his every movement a testimony to the inner battle he waged. Ben's eyes moved past Ray to the voice that mocked him. He tried to focus his eyes on the face of the woman standing beside him. He stared long and hard at that face then closed his eyes. He shook his head and immediately regretted it. The throbbing increased and he slumped against the ropes. Ages later he again sought to focus his eyes. He avoided the woman's face. Instead, he focused on her shoes.

"Now, now, Constable Fraser. The sooner we get the unpleasantness over the better for all concerned." She grasped his hair and pulled his face up again. 

Pain shot through his head. He blinked his eyes and gasped with her rough handling. 

She moved to place her face within inches of his. Her blue eyes stared into his. "Now, Constable Fraser, you're going to answer my questions. As long as I like your answers, your friend remains alive. If I don't like them, I'll kill him. Then we'll start over. Do I make myself clear?"

Ben licked his lips. "Yes..." The look in his eyes was one of disbelief and recognition.

Jane, seeing that look in his eyes, said, "You know me, don't you?" 

The confusion in her eyes was plain to Ben. "Yes, I know you."

Jane released his hair and stepped away from him. "Who am I?" she whispered. 

Ben stared at her in disbelief. Who was she? What kind of question was that?

"I asked you a question." Jane slapped his face, hard. "Answer it, damn you! WHO AM I?"

"Becka?" Ben asked in a faint voice. "You **can't** be here. You're dead."

Jane asked again, "Who am I? Who's this **Becka**?"

Ben stared at the face before him searching the features for that telltale scar. He began to shake when he saw the unmistakable white line running from her left eyebrow to her hairline. In a voice that shook with shock, he answered her, "You're my sister, Rebecca Fraser."

Shock registered on Ray's face but it was nothing compared with the shock on Jane's face. Ray studied the two people in front of him. Of course, the eyes were the same, the facial features were similar. Where Benny's were finely chiseled, Jane's were delicate. But the features were the same. The resemblance was **definitely** there.

He felt something at his hands. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder he saw Diefenbaker chewing at his ropes. "Good boy, get me loose." Dief's sharp teeth worked at his ropes.

"You're sister?" Jane swallowed, shaken. She had not expected that answer. Yet, when she looked into Fraser's face she could remember...something...what was it...

Fraser watched the emotions flitting across Becka's face. What had happened to her? Tears came to his eyes and ran down his face. Becka was alive...his sister was alive. "Becka...what happened to you? We thought you were dead? Dad and I searched and searched for you. What happened?"

Shaking like a leaf, Jane shook her head. "No, my name is Jane Smith. I'm Soldier 12. I don't know who this Becka is." She raised the gun and placed it's barrel in the center of his forehead. "I told you to answer me truthfully. You're lying to me." She swung the gun around and pointed it at Ray. "Tell me the truth! Who am I?" she screamed.

"I've told you the truth...you're my sister. You've been missing for almost two years." 

Her hands shook even worse than before. Her accident had occurred almost two years ago. Coincidental, purely coincidental. Her hands flew to her temples as she turned to Ray. "Make him stop! Make him tell me the truth!" 

The gun came down and pointed directly at him. She no longer shook. "Make him tell me the truth or you're history, Vecchio." She swung back to Fraser.

"I can prove you're my sister. That scar on your face..." Jane's hand went to the scar. "Do you remember how you got it?" 

Jane shook her head. She remembered nothing from the 'before' time. 

"Do you remember the forest fire? You slipped and fell off that cliff and I jumped down after you. Do you remember how I broke my leg? You were unconscious and there was blood all over your face. I thought you were dead. I cried as I held you in my arms. Do you remember telling me not to cry--that you were okay? Do you remember how relieved we were when Dad and the rescue team found us? How angry he was with us? Do you remember how he held us in his arms and scolded us? We laughed because he was holding us so tight we could barely breathe. Do you remember Dad carrying you back to Grandmother's house? You fell asleep in Dad's arms. I remember how he prayed that we would be all right and how he would never forgive himself if something had happened to either you or me. I guess that's one of the few times that I knew that Dad really loved us. Do you remember any of that, Becka?"

Jane backed away from Fraser. The things he said had a ring of familiarity. But how was that possible? She had no family. No, it was all a lie. A lie to get her to let down her guard. It was **all** a lie. She turned to Ray. "I told you if I didn't like his answers I'd kill you. He's lying to me and I don't know why." She turned her gaze to Fraser once more. "Make him to tell me the truth..."

Ray saw the madness in her eyes. _‘She's losing it!’_ he thought. 

His ropes slackened. ‘ _Good boy, Dief! I'll buy you a whole box of jelly donuts if we get out of here!_ ’ He reached down and untied the ropes around his ankles. 

Jane swung around at the sound of his chair scraping on the floor. 

"Get her, Dief!" Ray shouted. The wolf jumped forward and tackled Jane. She lost balance and fell. Her skull impacted soundly on the handcart, her last conscious sight--teeth in a snarling wolf's muzzle.

Dief's growls of anger and hatred changed to whines of recognition as he nuzzled her neck and sought her hand for that special scratch behind the ears that Becka had always given him. Ray quickly untied Fraser and they both approached the woman on the floor.

"Get off her, Dief!" Ben pushed Diefenbaker aside and gently gathered Becka into his arms. His hands encountered something wet and sticky as he cradled her head. His hand came away bloody. Anguish burned in the look he gave Ray. 

Ray scurried for his cellphone. "I have absolutely no idea where we are, Benny. How can I call for an ambulance if I don't know where we are?" He looked around and spied the van. "Come on, we'll take the van and get her to a hospital."

Ray drove while Fraser cradled the limp body of his sister in his arms. "Please hurry, Ray. Please hurry!" 

Dief whimpered in response to the obvious pain in his packmate’s voice. He nuzzled the packmate’s sister’s hand. Why didn't she scratch him? He whimpered again. 

* * *

"Constable Fraser? Detective Vecchio? I'm Dr. Mark Greene." Dr. Greene extended his hand to the two men. He spoke to Fraser, "I understand the young woman you brought in is your sister?"

"Yes. Can you tell me anything?" Ben's voice was thick with worry.

"Not yet, Constable. I'm here to check you two over. I understand that you both have been drugged. I'll need some blood tests run to determine what it was you were given before I can begin to determine if there was any damage done. Do you have any idea what it was you were injected with?"

Ray answered, "She said it was morphine, pentobarbital, and something else. She didn't know what that something else was."

"Well, that gives me someplace to start. Now, the nurse will draw the blood and I want you both to spend the night here. I'll check on your sister and get back with you."

Ben grasped the doctor's arm before he could turn away. "Dr. Greene, don't take this as a reflection on my opinion of your abilities as a doctor, but I'd like to contact a specialist in Ottawa that has dealt with this type of case before. Dr. Creighton is a RCMP specialist in terrorist activities including 'brain-washing'."

"Frankly, Constable, I would appreciate any help you could provide. I've not dealt with 'brain-washing' before. The sooner you get your Dr. Creighton here, the better for your sister. Use the phone at the desk. The nurse will direct you."

* * *

Ray rolled over and punched the pillow. No matter how much time he spent in a hospital, he could never get used to their beds. They were hard as rocks and the pillows were even worse. He looked across at the other bed occupied by his partner. "Hey, Benny, you awake?" There was no response. Ray called again, a little louder, "Hey, Benny, you awake?" There was still no answer. Ray flicked the light on. The other bed was empty. Ray shook his head. He should have known. Crawling out of the bed, he reached for the robe, pulled it on, and went in search of Fraser. He knew exactly where to look--the psychiatric ward.

After a brief greeting with the officer posted outside the room, Ray entered Room 307 and let his eyes grow accustomed to the dimness. The only light in the room spilled from the grill-covered window. Ray's eyes scanned the room. Sure enough, in a chair drawn up next to the bed sat his best friend. Ben's head rested on his folded arms on

the side of the bed. One of Jane's...no Becka's...hands was cradled in his.

Ray quietly approached his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. Ben turned tear-bleary eyes to Ray and swallowed. "Ray..."

Ray knelt down by the side of the chair and took Ben into his arms. Conventions be damned. This was his best friend and that friend needed some heavy-duty comforting right now. He knew how he would feel it that was either Maria or Frannie. He also knew that Fraser wouldn't hesitate to offer him what comfort he could if the roles were reversed. 

"It's alright, Benny. Things are gonna work out okay. You'll see. Your sister's in the best of hands. They'll take good care of her. There's nothing to be afraid of..." His voice trailed off as Fraser clung to him in desperation. He felt the sobs that wracked the Mountie’s body.

"You don't understand, Ray. These 'Soldiers' are literally programmed for assassination. If they fail...they self-destruct. I saw one do that. What if...what if..."

"That's not gonna happen, Benny! She's your sister! She's got Fraser blood in her. She's made of stronger stuff than the normal person is. She's gonna be fine. She just needs you here to help her find herself again."

"That's probably the best advice you'll ever receive, Constable Fraser." Ray and Ben drew apart at the sound of the new voice. "Hello, Benton. How have you been? It's been a long time since we last saw each other."

Ben stood and extended his hand to the man who had entered the room. "Hello, Dr. Creighton. I'm fine--glad you could make it."

"How could I not come. Your father was one of my closest friends. If this is really Rebecca...?" 

"It's Becka. Can you help her?" 

"I'll do my best, Benton. It all depends on how deep her conditioning is. We can always hope for the best." 

Tired of being left out of the conversation, Ray cleared his throat. Ben guiltily turned to him, "Dr. Creighton this is Det. Ray Vecchio of the Chicago PD. Ray this is a friend of my father's, Dr. Ron Creighton. He's a specialist in terrorist activities. If anyone can 'deprogram' Becka, Dr. Creighton's the one."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Ray extended his hand to the man. "You're a Mountie, too?"

Dr. Creighton chuckled. "What tipped you off? The unmistakable air of authority? The attention to detail? The calm detachment?"

"Actually, it was the uniform." Ray grinned as he shook Dr. Creighton's hand. "I'm getting pretty good at recognizing Mountie uniforms."

Ray and Dr. Creighton watched Ben move back to the bed and the still figure in it. "Benny's pretty torn up about this. Can you help her?" Ray ached for Fraser.

"I'll do the best I can, Det. Vecchio. Becka's a strong girl. If anyone can pull through this, she can. You can help, Detective..."

"Ray, please."

"Ray, then. You can help most by being there for Benton. He's going to need some kind of support system to get him through this as well. I'm going to depend heavily on his relationship with his sister and **that** will be emotionally draining for him."

"Don't worry, Doc. I'll be there for Benny. He's my best friend." They both turned their eyes to the bed. Ben gently stroked Becka's cheek. "I've got two sisters of

my own." Ray softly added.

* * *

"Shit, I can't take much more of this. When does the paperwork end? Haven't I filled out enough reports on this case? How many more are there? Elaine? Elaine, can you get me some more coffee?" Ray laid his head down on the pile of papers on his desk. Maybe if he wished hard enough they would disappear. No...the slick surface of the paper was still pressed to his cheek. 

Time for a new tactic. Ray picked up the papers, laid his head down again, and placed the papers on top of his head. Maybe someone would see that he was buried in

paperwork and take pity on him. No, that tactic didn't seem to be working either. "Hey, can't anyone see that I'm buried in this paperwork?" He mumbled to himself about the lack of caring among his fellow officers.

"Could I be of some assistance, Det. Vecchio?" The words were softly spoken but carried to Ray underneath the pile of papers. Surprised he jerked up, the papers sliding onto the floor. He stared at the woman seated across from him.

"Jane...I mean, Miss Fraser...Constable Fraser...damn, I don't know what to call you." He nervously reached for the fallen papers. Becka's hands joined his in retrieving the mess on the floor.

"Please call me Becka. That's my name." She smiled at the peacefulness that knowledge brought her. "My nickname that is. You can call me Rebecca if you prefer."

"No, Becka is nice. Call me Ray." He couldn't quite meet her eyes. So much had happened between them when he thought she was Jane Smith. She had almost killed him and Benny. He didn't know how to react to this new person. He didn't know how to react to Rebecca Fraser, Benny's sister.

Becka placed the papers she had collected from the floor on his desk. She reseated herself in the chair and drew in a shaky breath. "Ray...I wanted to talk to you before I left..."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, I'm going back to Ottawa. I've got a job to finish. It's funny how the experiences I've gone through **now** make me uniquely qualified to bring the whole 'Soldier' organization down. That was what I set out to do over two years ago. Now I'm almost done." She looked at him the pain and shame unmistakable in her eyes. "I needed to talk to you before I left."

Ray nodded his understanding. He took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and led her to one of the interrogation rooms. "Where's that brother of yours?" Ray asked as Diefenbaker joined the pair. He glanced around to see Fraser talking to Elaine. Diefenbaker trotted back and joined Ben and Elaine.

"He's watching over me until I leave for Ottawa."

"Why doesn't he join us?"

"I asked him not to. I needed to talk to you alone. You have no idea how an older brother can cramp your style." There was affection in Becka's voice.

Ray grinned as he thought of his own sisters. "Yeah, I think I can hazard a guess, though." He was pleased by the soft laugh that reached him. He closed the door to the interrogation room. "Okay, now we have some privacy. What do you want to talk about?"

Becka looked around the room, walked over to the mirrored surface of the two-way window, ran her hand over the surface of the table...anything but look at Ray. Now that she was here, she was finding it hard to talk to him...to say the things she needed to say. "Ray..." She choked on the lump she felt in her throat.

Ray watched Becka wander around the room avoiding him. What was so important that she had to tell him? It's not like they meant anything to each other. After all, she'd been under the influence of those drugs when she'd been Jane Smith. She couldn't be held responsible for her actions. Still, he wished some of what had happened had been for real. He had really like Jane Smith...but Rebecca Fraser? He didn't know this woman. How much of Jane still existed in Becka?

His name carried across the distance that separated them. Her back was turned to him. Had he actually heard his name? He closed the distance between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. He felt the tremors and turned her to face him. Tears streamed down her face. 

"Ray, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you?"

Ray held her in his arms. "Becka, listen to me. You're not responsible for what happened. There's nothing to apologize for. You were just a pawn."

"But I almost killed you...almost killed Benny." Ray chuckled. Becka pushed away from him. "What's so funny? There's nothing funny about almost killing my brother...or you..."

"I wasn't laughing about that, Becka. I was laughing at you calling him **Benny**. I thought I was the only one who called him that."

"You mean he never told you that that was what I called him?" she asked.

"He never told me anything about you. I once asked him if he had any family--that was after your father was killed-- he told me he didn't have anyone. He never mentioned that he had a sister. I guess that's because he thought you were dead, too." He saw the pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Becka. I didn't mean to bring up the loss of your father."

"I know, Ray. I can't believe he's gone. He was such a strong man. I'm going to miss him terribly." Her voice caught.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll see him like Benny does."

"Benny sees Dad?"

"Maybe you should talk to Benny about that. I'm not supposed to know he does." 

"Oh dear." Ray chuckled again and pulled her back into his arms. She laid her cheek on his shoulder. It felt good to be held in Ray's arms. "Ray?"

"Hmmm?"

Becka tilted her face so she could see Ray's face. "When all of this mess is over...when I find out what's going to happen to me..." She paused, not sure where she wanted to go.

"When all of this mess is over and you know what's happening with your life, you what?" Ray asked. He smiled at the confusion in Becka's soft blue eyes. They were so

expressive, just like Benny's, only more so. 

Becka took a deep breath. "Do you think, maybe, we could start over? Become friends? I know you're Benny's best friend. Do you think we could be friends, at least, for Benny's sake?"

Ray smiled at her. "Yeah, I think we could become friends. And not just for Benny's sake. I mean, I know he's your brother and he is my best friend, but...that has nothing to do with us becoming friends. I mean..." Ray drew in a shaky breath. "Damn! I'm beginning to sound like him. Becka, I don't want to be your friend just because Benny's your brother. I mean..." he stopped and stared at the face turned to his. He smiled again, made up his mind, and kissed the lips that eagerly met his.

Ben turned away from the window. Yes, he had intentionally eavesdropped on Ray and Becka--but he had good reason. Something had happened between Ray and Becka when she was still Jane Smith. Ray was his best friend, but Becka was his sister. She had steadfastly refused to tell him what she needed to talk to Ray about. Now he knew. He wore a smile as he left the small room next to the interrogation room now occupied by Ray and Becka.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ray, but I have to ask you a very important question." Ben had waited until they were on their way back from the airport. Ray had volunteered to pick him up from the airport when he returned from escorting Becka to Ottawa.

"Shoot, Benny." Ray glanced over at his friend.

Ben stared straight ahead. "Perhaps you should pull over to the side of the road before I ask you."

Ray shot him another glance, noting the seriousness in the Mountie’s face. He took the next exit ramp and pulled into a partially deserted parking lot. He turned to Ben. "Okay, Benny, what's your question?"

Ben stared at the face of his best friend, "Ray...just what are your intentions toward my sister?"

FINI

Copyright March 1997 by SL Haas

Revised June 1999

Comments are welcome at 

durango@ionet.net

 

North Trilogy and Transitions

* South by Southwest
  

* Whispering Pines
  

* In the Before Time
  

* "One Word"
  



End file.
